With Mr. Devil's agreement, Klein's mind raced. He most wanted to ask about the Spectator pathway, but that would seem too deliberate. After a moment's thought, he said,
"I'd like to know if you're aware of any sequences that can create coincidences."
Snow's expression shifted slightly, then he deliberately adopted a mocking sneer.
"Why would you think a mere Sequence 9 like me knows such things? Are you overestimating me?"
That's not what you implied before! Klein grumbled inwardly but recognized that such knowledge wouldn't be shared with a near-stranger. Swallowing his disappointment, he feigned nonchalance.
"Just curious. By the way, for finding Lanevus, do you have any of his personal items?"
"Sadly, no. I tracked down his old residence, but he's a clever one—left no traces. That's why I wanted to cultivate a Seer, to see if anything could be gleaned from that near-empty house." Snow spread his hands helplessly. Klein pounced on the lead.
"Where's the house?"
"Howes Street, Number 62," Snow replied, citing intel from the original novel, then flashed a cryptic smile. "I'm still on the official wanted list, so I won't join you. If you find any clues, come to Room 203, Fragrance Tree Inn on Champagne Street. Oh, and here's some funding."
He pulled two gleaming gold coins from his coat, placed them on the table, donned his half-height silk hat, and headed for the door.
Watching Snow's leisurely exit, a realization struck Klein. He mentioned official Beyonders don't know the Acting Method, meaning he sees me as part of a hidden organization—likely the Secret Order! So, his goal is to feed Lanevus's intel to the Secret Order? He also referenced the Captain, and he's outwardly an Aurora Order member… What's he planning?
Klein sensed a thread connecting the dots but, limited by his occult knowledge, couldn't tie it together.
After a moment's hesitation, he stood. Whatever Snow's scheme, investigating Lanevus's house seemed safe—after a divination to confirm no danger, of course.
Klein prepared to leave the Divination Club but paused, turning back to pocket the gold pounds.
Mr. Devil's generous—two pounds just like that! Carefully tucking the coins into his suit's inner pocket, Klein gathered his belongings and headed out. Before he could exit, a familiar figure entered—Mr. Glasis, who'd previously sought a divination about his Lanevus-linked investment.
…
"Everything's on track." At a café across from the Divination Club, Snow ordered afternoon tea, sitting where he could see the club's entrance. Only when a young woman in a ruffled hat appeared did he finally relax.
Pulling a gold coin from his pocket, he flipped it high. As it landed in his hand, he stood and left the café.
Back at the inn, Snow completed his routine workout, showered briefly, and returned to his room to write a letter—
'Dear Mr. A,
You won't believe what I've discovered! Though Hanass Vincent was a fool, he did something utterly right! That Trickmaster—he succeeded!
I don't know how he pulled it off, but today, by chance, I saw a lady. Forgive my lack of a better term, but she carries the Lord's heir!
There's no need for further confirmation—I assure you, my words are true. As a Secret Supplicant, my senses in this matter are infallible. The child she carries undeniably bears the Lord's divinity—the Lord's heir!
Praise our Lord! I'm eager to witness the birth of the Lord's heir!
But amid this joyous news, there's an unforgivable disturbance.
The lady carrying the divine child has come into contact with Nighthawk heretics! Though the Holy Son's aura kept them at bay, you understand this remains a threat.
As a mere Secret Supplicant, I'm powerless to protect the Holy Son's safety. Thus, I beseech you, Lord's Emissary, to come personally and ensure the Holy Son's safe birth.
Your loyal servant,
Snow von Panredax'
…
Watching Mr. A's courier take the letter, Snow exhaled deeply. Per the courier's speed, Mr. A would arrive in Tingen by the day after tomorrow at the latest.
An evil god's heir in Tingen spelled disaster, but in Backlund, it'd be just another incident.
Stretching, Snow sipped hot milk, letting his body and mind unwind. Then, he began wrapping up the day's work—
"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era;
The Mysterious Ruler above the Gray Fog;
The King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck."
The ancient Hermes honorific echoed in the spiritually sealed room, its layered murmurs rippling toward the starry realm. Hands clasped, pressed to his forehead, Snow prayed reverently before bed…
…
"Mr. Devil's praying again! Such a devout follower—I don't know whether to be pleased or exasperated!" At 2 Daffodil Street, Klein, fresh from a bath and about to sleep, heard the incessant murmurs. He knew instantly it was Mr. Devil's prayer.
Still, he didn't ignore it. Returning to his bedroom, he performed the four-step reverse walk to ascend to the gray fog.
He'd heard the tale of the boy who cried wolf. If he dismissed these prayers, what if someone else needed help one day, and he overlooked it?
Seated at the head of the bronze table, Klein eyed the pulsing crimson star, muttering, "Of course it's Devil." He extended his spirituality to touch it.
Planning to let the "recording" play out and return to bed, Klein listened for a moment—then froze. The face hidden behind the gray fog grew deadly serious…
(End of Chapter)